The diary of a real princes
by GoldenStrawberry
Summary: Ever heard of Cinderella? Beauty in the beast? Snow white? Thos lines that started it all? "Once opon a time.."? cut the crap! Princesses have a hard ass life! Not sugary sweet in my castle. If you beg to differ come in to my life, Bella Swan's.
1. The real world

The diary of a REAL princess.

Intro of STORY

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess."

This is how all stories start with. A beautiful, mistreated kind-hearted, lovely soul, (you get the message she's perfect), girl. Well, the writers where on crack or better yet, sipping the yak when writing stories like Snow ivory. Or, what's her face, Cinderblock head? Lucky, there are REAL princesses, with REAL problems. Not, this she said he said crap. Or, "OhMiGosh! I don't have a dress for the ball!" Well knowing that take me, Bella Swan for example. Enter my real world, with people, not cute ass elves.

Note: I'm NOT making fun of the writers! Bella is!

Love ya! GoldenStrawberri!

P.S- Sorry I haven't updated AT ALL!!!! I had no idea of this fact! I wuz SO BUSSIE! Forgive me? PLEASEEEEE!!!

Sorry. It's short... BUT IT IS THE INTRO!


	2. Mother loves her ice cream

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess."

This is how all stories start. A beautiful, mistreated kind-hearted, lovely soul, you get the message she is perfect, girl. Well, the writers where on crack or better yet, sipping the yak when writing stories like Snow ivory. Alternatively, what is her face, Cinderblock head? Lucky, there are REAL princesses, with REAL problems. Not, this she said he said crap. Or, "OhMiGosh! I don't have a dress for the ball!" Well knowing that, take me, Bella Swan for example. Enter my real world, with people, not cute ass elves.

I had my fair share of stories. Renee', my mother, told me a lot of them, trying to appeal them to my taste. She even had my old room set up as a princess room. The catch was I was not at all interested in the princess era, even as a child I didn't like stories. They were too predictable. So as I sit in a Victorian chair while my harebrained mother babbled on her plans for my 16th birthday party. I don't know the exact details but something associated with cute pink ribbons and more Victorians dresses than needed. I sighed and sat back in the velvet seating. "Bella!" Renee' screeched suddenly, "did you hear any thing that I said? It is your birth day party!" I rolled my eyes, "Mom, if it's my birthday party then shouldn't I be in charge of my own plans?" I looked at her with a perfect raised brow. Renee' blushed and fluffed her dress with her hand, then opened her mouth to defend herself, I ignored her, and continued to speak, "I know, I'm not old enough, I'm your baby. But what happened to the promise. That you said you would keep?" The promise. She made the same damn excuses every year when I complained to her that the party planning was my own obligation. She always wanted to baby me, even though I was the one who was the most responsible one in the relationship. I guess that was the only way to baby me. So when my 15th birthday she made a promise to me, at my 16th birthday I could be in charge of everything that was related to my birthday party. She glared at me, and I smirked at her, knowing I would finally win. Renee' narrowed her already glaring eyes and then threw up her hands. Of course, always the drama queen, she yelled in agitation, "Fine Bella, do what you wish!" and then stormed off in her billowing dress. I stretched in satisfaction and finally closed my eyes to what seemed a long time.

Two days had passed and I already had started to get the decorations. The theme was a ball, which had seemed to please mother an iota, even though she was still fuming over what happened two days ago. "Mom! Come out the bathroom, and stop sulking!" I said. "No!" mother replied, her voice was muffled, separated between the mahogany door. I sighed, using the only excuse to get her out. "Ok, but all I wanted to tell you was, I kind of ate all your strawberry ice cream." Silence. I sighed, already giving up. I started to walk away, but then, I heard the door slightly open. "What? You mean the strawberry ice cream at Wrigley's place that I love?" her furious voice ran shivers down my spine, as I got and negative aura emitting from my mother. I turned slowly with my eyes closed then faced her. "Nope, that just was about the only excuse to get out the cursed bathroom!" She looked at me, eyes sparkling, "So my ice cream is still there?" I shrugged, "If not, Phil's probably stolen it." I said facing my back to her. Soon, she raced pass me, yelling, cursing and screaming. While she thudding down the long steps I could still hear her screams, "PHIL! I didn't haul my ass to Wrigley's place just so you could eat my cursed ice cream." I smiled at my mother's crazy antics. Well, Mother likes her ice cream.

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I'm kind of having writers block here people. DON'T get mad! I will continue this story!


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